Three Wise Boys
by dust-sommelier
Summary: "I was born unable to see". "I listened, but I never thought". "...before I could truly speak again". Based on the Three Wise Monkeys in which the elemental monkey Pokemon were based off of. Contains writing that could trigger self-doubt and sadness, so do not read if you're not in the emotional condition to.
1. See No Evil

_Cress's POV_

The family in which I was born into was fortunately to be a family of wealth. Most of the time, there was no worry about finances. We had all that we needed, yes. Food, shelter, a bed in which to sleep in at night. Things that not all people had. I was very fortunate, as most would say.

As a young child every one of us once were, I thought that everything around me was perfect—Well, that's how it was presented to me. I always thought that what my parents, my family members, my brothers, were doing was always right. There was nobody else out there as perfect as they were. They were the ideal **image** of the perfect member of society. They said and **did** things that everyone liked to hear and **see**.

And that is how they wanted me to **see** it as. Nothing more.

Turning a blind eye was what I was always accustomed to doing in this family. When we were out in the city, I was told to **look** away from the homeless man on the street, the man hitting his wife, the fights breaking out in the street. With that, I was known to not easily take notice to things going wrong. I was more ignorant than most children my age. In fact, I was more ignorant that a newborn baby at times.

And, surprisingly enough, it was the same people that told me to look away that were the people I shouldn't **see**.

Maybe I did not fully grasp their wants of me at the time. I feel as though the hairstyle I chose from many that all had an **ocular** disadvantage was their hint to me. The hint to let me know that I should half **see** and have become blind. My ignorance taught me to not think about what my mind and thoughts said, but what others told me. I never did anything that nobody else told me to.

Becoming half blind was difficult, like a long, hard training session. I had to act like what I **saw** didn't bother me, but who I was becoming did.

I was turning into a fool.

I pretended as if I didn't **see** Cilan getting picked on beaten up by other kids. I pretended as if I didn't **see** our father yell and scream at my brothers. I pretended as if our mother was still here with us rather than elsewhere in the universe. I even pretended as if all hurtful and painful things in the world didn't exist.

I didn't want to become half blind. It was forced upon me. I was supposed to be of normality, but I didn't feel this so-called normal. They took away so much of my **sight**, that I couldn't even **see** what they said was right. It is as if they shut off the connection between my eyes and brain, ceasing any reaction I may have from what my eyes **see**.

My **gaze** was deep. My **gaze **was empty. My **gaze** had nothing to say. I was always giving people blank **stares**.

It was affecting my other features. I began to monotonously speak. I began to speak only when told. I began to not do anything without permission. I was only someone's puppet. I was being pulled by strings 24/7.

My heart never spoke. My heart never screamed. It was a nightmare I would never open my eyes from.

I couldn't. It was as if someone was trying to drown me in a pool of their greed.

Because I could never do enough.

I was never enough.

Not being me wasn't good enough for them to leave me alone.

… And I was born unable to _**see**_.


	2. Hear No Evil

_Chili's POV_

We all have ears welded into the side of our heads. And their always opened. We are all open-minded, I guess you can say. Our ear canals went straight into our heads and to our brains. They sent every single **sound, noise, voice, music**, you name it, into our heads. We could **hear** most of what was around us and far away

But mine... They were the opposite.

My brain clogged my ears. Not because I was of any intelligence, but because that's how others wanted it. They wanted me to **hear** more of their good qualities rather than what I **heard** behind their backs. They wanted their image of them to be perfect to me. Flawless. Something to look up to. Something to follow. Something to want to grow up to be.

It didn't help that I was a stubborn child along with it all. All the time, I would be yelled at for doing something, whatever. It never affected me. I never **listened** to them.

But why? They were the ones who told me be the way I am...

I had deja vu every time I was yelled at, but I never knew why. I knew they'd said this to me before, but... I couldn't remember. It was as if my ear sorted through what I needed to hear for their benefit and what would let me **hear **the truth.

I wanted to **hear** the truth. Because I was becoming somebody I wasn't.

Even though I could never **hear** that thought in my head, I knew it was what I needed. The truth.

I needed to know why this was happening to me. I wanted to know. Not knowing was as if I had to act like I was deaf. But I wasn't. I could **hear**, but only what was considered good for me. As a very young child, every time I questioned something I **heard**, they told me they had no clue what I was talking about. They told me that I was **hearing** things, that it was all in my head.

Crying didn't help and certainly didn't get me anything or anywhere. I was held captive by my own thoughts and the only people I knew. I couldn't think for myself. Everything I believed and knew was given to me by them. But I wasn't willing. They force-fed it to me in the most sneakiest ways possible. And there was no way a young child like me could have fought back. They were much stronger than I was. They could hold me down as they forced it down my throat.

And they did.

I kicked and screamed every time till I had no voice. I cried till I had no tears. I did all that I could barely do till I was more helpless and useless than before. After that, I was left with my own thoughts. I could **hear** all that I was told by them in my head. They never left me alone. They were always there with me, controlling me without any effort.

I wanted to escape. I still had my intense, uncontrollable anger inside of me every time I tried. I had a drive, but a drive without a way to move, to go. I was stuck in place like someone running on a treadmill. I couldn't **hear** my feet smacking the ground. But I could **hear** their words bouncing around in my head as I fought. But the more I fought, the louder, more persistent, more intense they got.

Sticks and stones sometimes broke my bones, but words always hurt me.

Everything around me, all the **sounds**, all that my ears could hear. It hurt. **Sounds** and words that they didn't want me to **hear** sounded like screeching **noises** in my head. I wanted to cover up my ears and run away.

I never achieved anything they wanted. I never did anything they wanted. Other than involuntarily plug my ears.

They told me that I was a good little boy for staying in their choke-hold, even though I fought to escape.

"Still still boy, you'll embarrass us,"

"You don't want to be different, now do you?"

I _**listened**_, but I never thought. I was never myself.


	3. Speak No Evil

_Cilan's POV_

I liked to **talk**. I learned to **talk** long before my brothers did. I took enjoyment in reading the dictionary and finding **words** that interested me. It wasn't long before I knew **words** that they didn't know. I thought they would be rapturous at my knowledge.

...But all they did was reprimand me. Over and over again.

A metaphoric hand was always placed over my mouth whenever I intended to **speak** in public. I was silenced till what I was to **say** was no longer of my interest nor theirs or I had forgotten what my **words** were.

The only times I was able to express anything was when they told me to **say** hello. And that was all.

My dilemma wasn't that I never **spoke**. It was that I never was distinctly given permission to. Every time I let out the slightest hint of **speech**, I was hushed. I was told to keep it to myself, as if I was touching someone with my **words**.

I wanted to **talk**. I couldn't express myself through drawings. And if I ever did try to with **words** on a paper, it was confiscated from me before I could proofread it. It occurred so many times, that I stopped trying all together and did keep my **words** to myself in the end.

In the outside world, in the city in which I was born, people knew me. I was known as the angel child of my family. I was informed that I was always so quiet, so shy. I was nothing like my brothers. And how I reacted to them **speaking** to me was the way they wanted me to. By remaining silent.

I had a lot I wanted to **say**, but never was I able to do so. The hand on my mouth always gripped tighter when I opened my mouth. The only** words** I could **say** without any recoil on my decision was "Hello", "Yes", and "Thank you". Nothing more. Nothing less.

I was silenced to the point of no return. Never to **speak** more than what they desired of me.

Whenever I **said** all that they would allow me to, I would stuttered. I was a frightened and abused Pokemon that shivered at everything. I was too timid to **speak**, in fear that one slip of the tongue that they'd beat me to the floor with their own **speech**. I feared of getting carried away and, soon enough, I attempted to dodge conversations as often as possible.

This is what they wanted of me. I was doing what they wanted. Staying silent. Not saying a **word**. Even the times they wanted me to **speak**, I greatly struggled. The fear inside of me that they've been nursing had grown greatly and had started growing more in size. It was becoming my whole being. But the fear could never be released from my body. If it was, they would only make it grow more and more till the fear would swallow me whole.

They **spoke** more than I had ever in my life. Because they cut me short of a skill was why I couldn't perform normally. But they wanted me to be normal. They wanted a perfect boy to do all that they wanted. I was only there to grant their wildest wishes.

"Keep quiet,"

"Keep your **voice** down,"

I couldn't **scream**. I couldn't cry. It was too **noisy**. They wanted me silenced.

They knew my **voice** was my strength, so they amputated it from me. They reached their large, grubby hands down the throat of my younger self and tor my **voice** right out of me. I knew it would be a while before I could **speak** again.

But till I could, my voice was hushed. It would be a long life before I could truly _**speak**_ again.


End file.
